For some time now, I’ve thought and read and written about adding another layer of healthy living to my running. I realize the benefits of core and strength training, and looking back, I see how doing that would have contributed a great deal to my running routine the last six months.

But I haven’t done anything about this. Why?

Maybe it’s the fear of the unknown? I admit I don’t know where to start. There is too much information out there about what to do, when to do it, how many of it to do, etc… For the life of me, I can’t seem to condense all the data into a 3 day a week strength training plan.

Maybe it’s the time issue? Training for a marathon TAKES UP SOOOO MUCH TIME. I barely fit my mileage in each week. And with that mileage comes a great deal of sacrifice (Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be caught up on sleep). So, how the heck am I supposed to fit in an additional 20 minutes of strength training exercises 3-4 times a week?

So my solution to this mental torment has been to NOT DO ANYTHING. Crazy, huh?

Until Monday. Somehow, I realized that I was making too much of this only seemingly GIGANTIC issue. And I got down on the floor right then and did a few push ups. Then I did a few crunches. Then I held myself in the plank position.

 Tuesday, I found myself stretching while I waited for my french press to do its thing. And I did lunges while applying primer, foundation, blush and mineral veil to my face that morning (The ladies know what I’m talking about). And I did a few more push ups and crunches. Then today, I walked up five flights of stairs to my office…TWICE.

I think I over-analyze at times. I want to lay out the perfect plan and I want to succeed….

But sometimes, I just need to start. Every little bit helps, right?

Has there been a book written from the perspective of the spouse of a runner training for Western States? I may just have to write it.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when we walked into the cafeteria at Placer High School yesterday. A 10% chance was all he had; my hopes weren’t up. Sure, he had been talking about running Western States, but this is a race we read about. We watched the top runners finish last year (we are blessed to live so close to the finish line), and were pumped. But 100 miles? Only crazy people attempt that. Top athletes. Intense runners. This is a world-renown race. He wouldn’t get in. But I knew it would be a fun way to spend the morning. It’s historic. And part of what the running community is all about.

We walked in and were immediate directed to a table. Andrew sat down and faced a volunteer. He was given two of the exact same cards; the 8 of hearts. On both he wrote his name. He put one in his pocket, and the other was thrown in a box. Every qualifier in attendance did the same thing, vying for the last 5 spots in the 369-capped race.

We made our way through the crowd, grabbed some coffee and cut-up pastries and turned to survey the room. We were standing among the best of the best runners in Northern California and Nevada, and the room was buzzing with almost palpable anticipation. I’ve never seen so many silver and bronze Western States belt buckles, 50 and 100 mile race shirts, hats, jackets. It was an impressive group of people (and I quickly wondered why I thought it’d be cool to wear my Bizz Johnson marathon race shirt…26.2 miles? That was a warm up to these folks!).

Introductions began right at nine and about 15 minutes later, the lottery began. It was an interesting process to watch. Key people involved with Western States were called up to push a big silver button (housed in a big black case). Everything was computerized, but with each push of the ceremonial button, a new name and profile was displayed on the large TV screen.

I would guess that Andrew was one of the first 75 names called out, and it was a life-altering moment to say the least. We were overcome with joy and shock as he walked up to accept his goodie bag and 2011 Western States 100 participation guide. His first attempt and he gets in.

We knew a few others there, so of course we didn’t leave until the very end (Not to mention that Andrew was visably shaking with excitement). After the 219 spots were filled, they held a raffle for a spot in the 2012 Western States. And then the drawing for the 5 spots saved for those who were in attendance. 1, 2, 3, 4 spots were filled and the excitement was unbelievable. Number 5…and it was my husband! 8 of hearts! He was drawn for the last spot! But since he was already in the race, they had to draw again! It was the craziest thing I’ve ever experienced…and we thought of driving up to Reno, just to see if his luck could continue.

We’ve already discussed what all this means…a change in diet, building up to 8 hour runs on the weekends, double daily runs, altitude training, strength training, staying healthy and uninjured. My husband is going to have to be very deliberate, focused and dedicated from now until June 25. His well-being depends on it.

And for the family? Wow…a great deal of adjusting, I imagine. A lot of sacrifice on our part – on my part – but it’ll be worth it to see him cross that finishline. It’s going to be an interesting adventure!

I’ve been struggling lately with how I want to define myself as a runner. I understand it’s not necessary to establish such a definition, especially given that the reason I started running in the first place was to – for one hour at a time – strip away the titles I found myself trying to live up to…

But as I approach Day One of training for my second marathon, I feel like I need to solidify where I stand in the running community; a community I feel very connected to and a group of people I have grown to respect and love as a result of our shared passion. So…the question that has literally been haunting me: Am I a road runner working towards a sub-4 marathon or even Boston? Or am I a trail runner through and through, less concerned about “a qualifier” and more interested in satisfying the itch to push myself through longer and longer distances?

I read Runner’s World magazine, about all the workouts one can do to become faster, and I am immediately overwhelmed. It takes every ounce of dedication to organize my day and week just to get my current mileage in. I don’t know how to fit in speed workouts, tempo runs, strength training, hills repeats, group workouts, etc…There are only 24 hours each day, right? But if I’m “a road runner,” my goals have to include a sub-4 marathon time…and then possibly Boston. Right? But I’ve never run a 5K or 10K. I’ve never worried about pace or speed. I just run hard…and that feels good.

I feel like trail runners are a class apart from regular runners…it’s not bad…it’s just different. If you’re an ultra runner of any distance, then maybe you understand. As silly as it sounds, I think I feel this urge to classify myself in this category…whatever that even means. I just know I adore trail running. Never am I so at peace with life than when I am in the dirt. And the trail running in Northern California isn’t for the weak. I’ve run the rocky, steep trails out by Folsom Lake, the Flume Trail up at Lake Tahoe, and countless trails in and out of the Auburn Canyon. I ran my October marathon on a fire road (much different than a road marathon, obviously), but there is a difference between that and and the other trails I speak of.

And really, that is where my heart lies…I think.

I wonder why I feel it necessary to even reach some sort of a conclusion about who I am as a runner. Being a runner should be definition enough. And in a way it is, but still, I want more…I’m just not sure what I want.

I’ve heard that runners are sometimes asked, “What are you running away from?” And I imagine many runners are, in fact, running from something: family problems, work problems, personal problems, etc… I’ve reached the conclusion, however, that I’m not on that side of the scale. Maybe I was at first. Running got me out of the house for a few hours each week. Running helped me forget the stress, the emotional build up, the noise of life. It started as the “me time” I had never taken. 

Today though, my life as a runner is radically different. I run to something….

I run to the woman I want to be. I run to find her, to battle my perception of her, to strip her down to the core and to see her for who she really is. I don’t leave the house or hit the trail to escape. Rather, I leave so I can find who I really am.

I see glimpses of the woman I want to be on my runs. And I like her. She is healthy, strong, accomplished. She is real. I run without looking at where I’ve been and who I’ve been. I run focused on the next step, full of hope and eager to continue the journey.

I run because of who it makes me be.

I am excited again. And it feels good.

For three weeks (since my 10/10/10 marathon), I have been contemplating my next running goal. Do I want to run another marathon right away? Should I attempt to break the 4 hour mark? Could I for sure break it running a road marathon? Maybe I should run an ultra? Would that be the challenge I need to get back into a serious training routine? Oh yeah….it’s been stressful. I’ve run the last couple of weeks, of course…a few times. But more often than not, I’ve found myself turning off the alarm and falling back asleep.

I am a goal-orientated woman; I like targets. I like accountability. I like a little bit of pressure. And while I do like to run for fun and health, it’s training that I need.

There is something special about actually registering for an event, I think. A decision is made. Money is paid. There is a date on the calendar. And it is in that moment that a switch is flipped. I am in training and committed.

After scouring the websites for weeks and asking for recommendations from other runners, today was the day that a decision was made…

I just registered for the following events:

1/1/11 2011 Resolution Run in Auburn, CA –> I ran this last year…very fun.

2/26/11 Redwood Park 30K in Oakland, CA –> My husband will run the 50K while I run the 30K.

I ran my first marathon just three weeks ago…and since then, the relaxed mentality has been wonderful. But it’s time to get up and go. These two events will be a worthy start to the new year.

My husband chuckled when I said I want to get a 26.2 silver pendant…but I don’t understand why. Like I’ve said before, this has been the most remarkable and most satisfying journey I have ever ventured into….and I’m talking about both sides: the running and the fundraising. I am amazed with myself.

And I can’t believe it’s all over.

This week has been restful for me; my legs are feeling good, I walked/jogged a couple of very easy miles this morning, and I am still glowing from my new title of “marathoner.” I’m sleeping well, eating more than I should and realizing how much more time I have when I’m not logging as many miles.

So where do I go from here? I’ve read that marathoners often feel “blue” after such a huge feat. Interestingly enough, I haven’t felt anything but elation. And because of that, I can’t help but contemplate what to do next…

My husband and I are talking about running a trail marathon together in March. There are a few to choose from (Northern California is such a spectacular place to live if you’re a runner). While the trail may beckon us, however, we do want to make sure the one we do is a Boston Qualifying race. That’s a HUGE dream of his, and a goal I wouldn’t mind reaching for…

As eager as I am though to put something on the calendar, I know I musn’t fear relaxing for the next couple of weeks. There is a big part of me that still remembers what it took to “train.” It wasn’t easy…So for now, I choose  to run when I want to run, for however long I want to run. I want to remember what I love about running, and I want to reconnect with the passion I have for ‘simply running.’

‘Taking it easy’  and recovering from 26.2 won’t stop me from searching for the perfect spring marathon, and it doesn’t mean I won’t be lacing up my Asics 3-4 days a week. But there’s no hurry. Right??

It wasn’t just about the race this last weekend. It was about completing something monumental…something I set my mind to months ago. It was about gathering friends, family, financial supporters, my church, the children being helped by the money raised, and running FOR them.

It was also about me. You see, I’ve been changed as a result of my marathon training. I’m a different woman; stronger than I ever imagined, determined like never before, happier than I have ever been.

And now, I am a marathoner. Here is my story…

The town of Chester is a nice 3.5 hour drive away. It’s a beautiful part of the state, with rolling hills, gorgeous mountains and fields as far as you can see. It’s peaceful up that way. It’s the kind of place that makes you yearn for simpler times and reevaluate the things you deem important. Late Saturday afternoon, the family and I met up with my oldest childhood friend and her family at the hotel in Chester (she was running the Bizz Johnson Half Marathon), and we all walked to dinner (pizza) and then back to the hotel for the night.

It was a restless night. For starters, on the drive into town, I realized I had forgotten my precious little Garmin. I really do love that watch: It keeps me sane while running with my “I-just-want-to-run” husband. It relays to me more statistics then I ever thought I’d need. It has been my constant running companion for six months…Without it though, I had to quickly change my 26.2 mile game plan. Unexpected changes like this have a tendency to throw me off; I don’t like veering from my plan. In this particular situation however, I remained calm (and did end up borrowing my friend’s watch…no GPS but it worked). I was sort of proud of myself (Thank you Matt, for bluntly telling me I don’t need it. You were right.).

It was also conveyed to me that evening that I may need a headlamp for the two old train tunnels on the course….and yes, that sort of freaked me out. Thankfully however, my family packs headlamps when we travel (I’m serious about that). I didn’t end up wearing one (I would have been the only runner with a light on my forehead…a hilarious mental picture indeed), but it was nice to know I had access to one.

Also that night…The kids were waaaay too excited about staying in a hotel, and as you can imagine, a mother never truly goes off-duty. The kiddies just didn’t realize that I needed a peaceful, low-key type of evening.  We all were in bed by 9pm, but sleeping with a two year old isn’t conducive to what I would call rest.

I must insert here, a note of gratitude for my husband. As we packed for this weekend away, he had offered to pack for the kids. All I needed to worry about was my own stuff. This was VERY helpful to me and an extremely kind thing to do. It truly kept my mind focused on me. Thanks, Babe!

Sunday morning, I got the family up way too early, ate breakfast way too early, drove to Susanville to pick up my packet way too early and then drove to the starting line in Westwood way too early. But as I told the waitress at breakfast, a lot could happen in the three hours before the start of the biggest race of my life. I wanted to be prepared.

As we drove to the starting line, I laughed. There were no balloons…no streamers signifying a race was about to begin. But that is how so many trail runs are, aren’t they? Rustic. And really, I love it. I’d much rather run with 218 dedicated trail marathoners than thousands of Chicago marathoners (no offense to all the amazing runners who ran the Chicago marathon…I’ll do that someday, but that’s not who I am at the core).

Four minutes until the 9am start time, and I saw my mom and aunt. I didn’t know they were coming, and it made the tears swell up. The support I have received over the last several months has been unbelievable. And the fact I was about to begin something I’d been planning for so long…needless to say, the emotions were running high.

When the gun went off, I was in the groove. Nothing was phasing me. Just another long run. Just another long run. That is what I told myself for the first 10 miles. I felt good.

Then my stomach started to become a major, almost unbearable issue; It cramped up big time, folks. I felt like I needed to throw up…and I came close a couple of times. And goodness, I had some major lower intestinal problems. I’m sorry, I know that may be too much information for some people, but when you’re less than half way done with your first marathon, you don’t care anymore. It was awful.

I think it was about mile 11 or 12 when I finally worked up the courage and veered from the trail to “use the facilities.” Looking back, that probably cost me 5 minutes, but it was worth it. I felt better…for a while.

I crossed 13.1 miles (a half marathon distance) at 2:01. I knew I could double that and finish in 4 hours. My knee was holding up. My body wasn’t fatigued. But my stomach….ugh.

My husband met me at mile 21. I was happy to see him as it was beginning to warm up and I was still dealing with an unsettled stomach. Throughout the race, I didn’t know if I should keep drinking my Hammer Sustained Energy or stick to water. I did gag down a couple of GUs and I munched on a few pretzels along the way, but the knots, the nausea, the pain….It was not what I’d call fun. But I persevered.

I crossed the finish line exhausted…and in pain. I heard friends and family calling my name, but my stomach hurt so bad…I gave and accepted the congratulatory hugs, but more than anything, I needed a moment to myself. I couldn’t tell if I was going to poo or throw up…and in the next hour, I did both. A lot.

And I felt better.

Later, I was told that my aunt, a nurse at Oroville hospital, was quite concerned about me. My lips were blue, she said, and I do remember her telling me it was okay to lay down.

I just wanted the nausea to stop.

After I threw up (and my sincere apologies to everyone who walked in the women’s restroom after me…for I didn’t make it to the toilet), I did feel better. And then I could relish the fact that I had just run – and completed – a marathon. WOO HOO!

Fun stats: I ran 26.2 miles in 4 hours and 21 minutes. I placed 101 out of 213. 5th female in my age group and a 9:58 pace. Not bad for a tough downhill trail marathon.

To see so many of my friends and family at the finish line (Mom, Aunt Cindy, Andrew, Bertie, Luke, Cate, Lisa, Radley, Laken, Elizabeth, Heidi) was beyond wonderful. I felt loved and supported and valued. It was an amazing feeling.

I didn’t sleep well Sunday night. This particular marathon is actually considered a downhill race. I thought that would be good (it sounds good, right?), but my quads don’t agree with that assessment. They were very stiff and sore. Monday morning, I felt a little better…as long as I didn’t walk down stairs, get out of the truck, squat, bend over or reach for something that required any sort of movement in my legs.

Before heading home on Monday, the family and I drove up to Mt. Lassen. What a great family field trip! It’s volcanic country up there, and we had a blast talking to the kids about volcanoes. We saw boiling mud pots and did some hiking….and yes, it hurt my quads going up…and hurt even more going down…but it was worth it. The family had a good time, we learned a lot and really, it was probably pretty good to work out some of the lactic acid.

The rest of the drive home was difficult. My legs were still very sore (and still are), but it’s a good feeling. I am a marathoner! And….I’m ready to sign up for #2.

Much love to all of you,

Kelly

P.S. On a side note, while the Bizz Johnson Trail Marathon is a well organized event and I thoroughly appreciate the countless volunteers who helped make it possible, I don’t think I’ll do it again. The course was flat…and downhill…and provided a gorgeous backdrop (Have I told you how much I just adore running in nature?). That being said however, the course followed the old train tracks, which meant it was very straight and you could see miles ahead of you at a time. Mentally, that was challenging. There were no twists or turns…no difference in your stride at any given point. There was nothing to distract you from what you were doing. Reminded me of a mouse on a wheel….

P.P.S. I will post a financial update shortly. I need to count some change, update my spreadsheet and collect a few more promised checks. Stay tuned…

FIVE more days until I run my first marathon. FIVE more days until I push my body and mind past anything I’ve done before. And SIX more days before I can rest.  I’m happy to report that $4,182.40 has come in so far. At only $.19 a meal, this will feed almost 60 children for an entire year. How incredible is that?!
 
If you have already partnered with me financially, then I wish to take a moment to say thank you. I am terribly close to my goal of $5,000. And I am days away from my goal of running 26.2 miles…honestly, I’m not sure which I am more excited about.
 
For those who have committed a certain amount of money but haven’t sent it in and for those who still wish to donate, please let this serve as a gentle reminder. As I’ve stated, checks should be addressed to VALLEY SPRINGS. They can then be sent to me (email me at kellyg@raceforothers.com for the address), and I will deliver them to the church. That way, you’ll be assured to get a tax receipt.

A few fun facts:

• My kids and I have been collecting change for months now. Just last weekend, my seven year old and I had it counted, and we are able to donate $165 with what we collected! He asked me why I didn’t keep the money. While I’ve explained several times what I am doing, this gave me yet another opportunity to describe who this money will be helping. I’m pleased to use this to expand his world view.
• Friday night, I sat next to a gentleman on the flight home from Southern California (I was down there for work). I talked about my efforts, of course; both training for 26.2 and raising money…Monday morning, this kind man donated $100 to the campaign. What a selfless act!
• Just today, I received $172 in contributions.

Please continue to read this blog. And expect a detailed race report next week.  I also urge you to check out the Feed My Starving Children website in order to understand to a greater degree where this money is going and how it will be used. It really is a great organization.
 
Again, thank you so much for your support. I can’t say enough how thankful I am for the encouragement I have and continue to receive from friends and family. God is truly blessing me through this journey.
–
Kelly

“The taper” is not my friend. I’ve been backing off my miles for quite some time now…and IT IS KILLING ME. I find myself easily frustrated, emotionally unstable, and unable to concentrate on anything but that moment when I finally - next Sunday – can simply run.

How to cope with the way I feel during a taper? I’m not sure.

But I feel like I’ve taken one, two, three steps backward. And I don’t like it.

Running gives me so much; it makes me such a better person. Tapering means I am forced to deal with who I am in a different manner…and I haven’t exactly figured out what that looks like.

One week from tomorrow I will run 26.2 miles. I will give it all I have and then some. I will focus. As I toe the line at the start, I will see myself cross the finish line full of strength.

This taper thing, though…ugh…it’s REALLY difficult.

Only in running do I find some semblance of sanity.

Ok…everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, men, women, friends, family and colleagues are asking whether or not I am ready for the marathon.

I respond as expected; Yes, I am. I’m feeling good, my knee is healing, and I’m antsy to test myself by running 26.2 miles.

But I don’t want to be asked anymore. I don’t want these people – people that I know care a great deal about me – to think about what I’ll be doing in 12 days. Why? Because should something happen during that four hour period, while I am running with all of my heart and soul focused on the finish line, I don’t want to let them down.

*     *     *

I just received a $20 donation. And that makes me very happy. I am only about $1,000 away from my goal of $5,000.

I just finished telling a fellow runner and colleague how excited I am…how ready I am. And I love talking about what I’ve done to get to this point.

But now the butterflies in my stomach have decided to flap their wings with great intensity. It is so overwhelming in fact, that I am seriously considering logging off Twitter, Daily Mile and Facebook for the next 13 days. The anticipation of this is killing me…but only if I spend too much time thinking about it. And how can I not think about it when constantly inundated with the logged miles of others? There are so many runners running 26.2 miles on 10/10/10; everywhere I go and whatever social medium I happen to log into…someone is talking about a marathon…and it’s freaking me out.

I imagine these jitters are natural. They must be. And up until this week, I have been calm. My question for you though is this: What are some tried and true methods you’ve used to calm the pre-race flips my stomach is currently experiencing?

I don’t have time for these jitters. I have a race to run.